


Red or Green Icing?

by Drowned_in_Feels



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Baking, Dan dies, M/M, Phanfiction, can be read as phan or as they're just friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drowned_in_Feels/pseuds/Drowned_in_Feels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan dies in a tragic accident and Phil thinks it's his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red or Green Icing?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically the product of me watching too many of their videos in one go. Like, the one Tumblr tag video where Dan complains that Phil is always the one to die in fanfic and then there was one interview in which Dan says that he likes himself dying in fanfic. And well, too much Kitchen Phan.
> 
> Also, I almost accidentally printed this out by pressing ctrl+p instead of shift+p. Thank god, I stopped that from happening or else my family would be asking some questions.
> 
> Note: If you want to read Phan, they're in love here. If you just want to read a story about them as friends, they're only friends here. It's up to you.
> 
> Please also note: English is not my first language. I apologise for every grammar, spelling or punctuation mistake I might have made.

It's around noon, Phil's still in his pyjamas, his hair is in a majestic quiff. He's sitting at his desk editing a new video, it's another Why I was a weird kid! video. He hasn't done one of these in a while but lately, he has remembered quite a few yet unshared weird childhood stories so he thought _why not as well make another video_ and so there he was.

Dan enters Phil's room, without knocking as usual but by now Phil is so used to it that he doesn't even comment on it. Though, he does comment on the fact that Dan is already changed into jeans and T-shirt. “Wow! You're not in your pyjamas anymore!”

“Yeah, unlike you are. I was just going to the shop to get our baking supplies for this evening. You coming?”

Dan and Phil have planned to film another baking video today since Halloween is approaching and that means BAKING! Not really, though, Phil's never actually heard of anyone else traditionally baking at Halloween but it's their tradition now and they have to keep it.

“Actually, I'm just editing this video... Could you go without me?” He's not really sorry. For the last baking video, Phil had to do the shopping alone so this time, it's Dan's turn.

Dan pouts over-dramatically and puts on his complaining voice. “OK, fine! But if I get hit by a bus while being outside alone, it's your fault!”, he says sarcastically.

Phil laughs and turns back to his computer screen. “I think you'll manage just fine. Bye, Dan!”

Dan makes an outraged noise but then laughs and as he leaves the room and makes his way down the corridor Phil can hear him shout a distant “Good-bye!”

The apartment door shuts loudly and Phil is alone. He gets up to brew some coffee in the kitchen. As the machine starts to buzz into action, he whips out his phone and decides to tweet something. How else would you kill time in the kitchen? He could maybe do some washing up or something but no, he decides that he can do that later.

His tweet reads: “Just editing a new video! Also, Dan and I are filming a special treat for you today... Be excited!!”

Just as he sends the message into the void, his coffee is done. He takes the mug and re-assumes his editing position.

Phil is quite excited for the baking as they are planning on making a cake. That's right: No cookies, no brownies, they're stepping their baking game up and making an actual cake! A spooky cake of course.

A couple of minutes pass and his phone dings. It's a text from Dan. “do you prefer red or green icing on your spooky cake?”

As if that's a question. “GET BOTH!”

He doesn't get an answer but that's not worrying. Dan sucks at replying to texts.

Time passes.

Plenty of time passes.

Too much time passes for Phil not to worry.

He grabs his phone and texts him. “Why are you taking so long?”

He starts to panic but then has to remind himself that he is probably over-reacting. Dan was probably held up by a group of fans or something and they just won't let him go. Or the Tube is having technical difficulties. Or nothing's happened and Dan is about to walk through the front door.

Finally, his phone rings. It's a call from Dan. That's unusual. Dan always avoids actually talking to someone on the phone. Phil hastily grabs his phone and answers. “Dan? Are you OK?”

He shuts his eyes and desperately waits for the familiar voice to greet him with something like “Of course, I'm OK. Why shouldn't I be?” and then a stupid laugh.

Instead, the voice on the other end isn't Dan's. “Uhm, hello. Am I talking to Phil?” The voice probably belongs to a man from the area around London, at least as far as Phil can tell from his accent.

“Uh, yeah” He doesn't know what else to say.

“We found this young man's mobile phone and you were the last one who texted him so we thought we might just call you up.”

Oh, so Dan's just lost his phone. What a relief although Dan never lets his smartphone out of eyesight, how could he have lost it? And then how does this man know it's the phone of a young man. And who is 'we'?

“I-I'm sorry but what exactly is the matter?”

The man lets out a deep sigh. “I am very sorry to tell you but this young man was hit by traffic, his phone was right next to him. We've taken him to the hospital and we're doing everything we can but the chances are slim that he's -”

Phil doesn't hear the rest of the sentence, his phone has slid out of his hand. He stares blankly at the wall trying to comprehend what he has just been told. Dan's in the hospital? And his life is in danger? His mouth is slightly open and his breaths are coming sharp. It can't be. It just can't. There's no way that Dan – No, no, he's going to make it. He has to. How should he carry on without Dan?

The man's voice shakes him back into consciousness. It's coming from underneath the table. “Hello? Sir? Are you still there?”

Phil clumsily picks up the phone. “Yes, sorry, I've dropped my phone.” He can hear his own voice shaking. “Can you repeat what you were saying, please?”

“Of course. We've taken him to the hospital and -”

“Which hospital?”

“St. Mary's but-”

“I'm on my way” He doesn't even think about it. He just needs to be with Dan immediately. He's standing up, getting a coat and shoes on and about to hang up.

“Wait, wait, wait! I need your help first. Can you identify the patient real quickly?”

It must be a drastic emergency if they didn't even check his ID or anything. Phil can feel tears building up in his eyes. “His name is Dan Howell. Daniel James Howell.” And then he can't help but add “it says so right there on his ID, in his purse. It's in his right jeans pocket.”

“Yeah, he's being treated at the moment so I don't really have access to his jeans.”

“OK, I'm hanging up now.”

“Wait, I need to know who you are when you get here.”

“My name's Phil Lester.”

“Are you a friend or a family member or something like that?”

He's starting to get pissed at this man. He's just keeping him up. And he doesn't have the time to be polite right now. “We're Dan and Phil. Just fucking google us.” And with that he hangs up and closes the front door behind him.

In the cab, he realises that he's still in his pyjamas. And that he's crying. He doesn't care about either. Thankfully, the driver doesn't ask any question.

Before entering the emergency department of St. Mary's Hospital, he wipes away the tears and takes a deep breath. He has to at least appear to have himself together. He goes in and walks towards the first employee he spots.

“Where can I find Dan Howell?”

She looks him up and down, notices his clothing and his bloated face. “You must be Phil.” She turns around and waves to a man in paramedic clothing at the end of the room to come to them. “George has told me about you. Dan is currently being treated so you can't see him -”

Phil grabs her arm, maybe a little too tight. “Please, I have to see him!”

The woman looks a bit frightened but the man, presumably George, has approached them and now calmly loosens Phil's grip on her arm. “Thank you, Karen, I will take it form here.” The woman leaves and Phil is left with George whose voice he just recognised from the phone.

“When can I see Dan?”

“Not yet, I'm sorry.” The man tries to sound comforting but Phil is feeling way too upset to be comforted by a stranger. He hands him Dan's smartphone. Phil absent-mindedly slides it into his pocket. “Here. I googled you two and, well -” George seems to be lost for words so he only places a hand on Phil's shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

Phil doesn't care about George's attempts to calm him down. “Will he be alright?”

There's pity in the paramedic's eyes. “I can't tell for sure at this point but -” He's looking for the right words. “It's not looking good.”

Phil has to sit down, George takes the seat next to him. He can feel a few tears rolling down his cheeks and tries to hide it but it's a fruitless effort so he just lets them roll and drop down his chin.

He sniffles and tries to collect himself. “Do you – Do you know how it happened?”

“I wasn't there when it happened but a witness told me everything she saw. Apparently, the young man – Sorry. - Apparently, Dan was looking at his phone and just walked into the street without paying attention to the traffic. There was a bus. The driver just couldn't react fast enough. Dan was hit and – I'll spare you the details. He was severely injured. The witness called 999 immediately, another man did CPR. Then, me and my colleagues arrived. The rest of my team started tending to Dan, loaded him in an ambulance, drove him here. Now they're in the OR with him, trying to stitch him up. I stayed behind, talked to the witnesses, picked up his phone. It was my duty to inform relatives, you know, so I called you because you were the last person he had contact with. Should we maybe contact his family?”

Phil has been in a kind of trance while George was speaking, trying to picture the accident, trying to comprehend that this was all actually happening. He only shows reaction now that he is directly being addressed. He looks at the man next to him, attempting to form a sentence. “I don't – I don't know -”

But before he could think of anything smarter to say, a young woman in scrubs enters, looking around, searching for somebody. When she makes eye contact with George, she gestures him to come to her.

“Excuse me”, George says, then he stands to meet the nurse at the other end of the room. Phil follows their conversation although he can't make out the words they're saying. At one point, the nurse glances at Phil with a pitiful look in her eyes. This can't be good.

Finally, George returns to Phil. “I'll just get straight to the point. Dan's dead.”

Phil doesn't flinch, he doesn't blink, he doesn't move at all. The words are echoing in his mind. _Dan's dead._

_Dan's dead._

_Dan's dead._

_Dan's dead!_

The paramedic seems to be waiting for a reaction. Phil looks up at him with all the strength he can muster. “Can I see him? Please?” His voice cracks at the last word.

George shakes his head. “No. I'm sorry.” He proceeds to take the seat next to Phil again but he stops him. “Could you please leave me alone?” Most of that sentence was barely understandable but George left anyway.

So Phil just sits in silence. He doesn't know if he's crying or not. He can't be crying. There are no more tears inside him. He feels so empty.

It's his fault. Dan wanted him to come with him to the store and he refused. If he had only gone with him, he would be still alive. It's his fault.

And Dan joked about getting hit by a bus. What kind of cruel foreshadowing is that? He feels a few tears drop down on his folded hands in his lap. And what was his reply? _I think you'll manage just fine._

What should he do now, without Dan? What is his life without Dan? Is this even real? Is anything real? This can't be because what would be the world without Dan by his side?

At some point, he gets up and leaves. Maybe he should have informed George that he was leaving but he doesn't really care.

He doesn't stop for a cab. He walks all the way home. Is it still home, though? Without Dan sitting in the lounge in his browsing position? Without Dan complaining about Phil eating his cereal? Without Dan pacing in his room at four o'clock in the morning?

It's a long way and he gets lost a few times. When he's finally back at his apartment, it's already dark outside.

He opens the door and automatically checks his phone without thinking about it. A lot of fans have tweeted him when he's going to upload the video he was editing earlier.

He forgot about that video completely. He hasn't finished editing it. What's the point, though, in uploading videos when Dan isn't around to see them?

He doubts that he will ever finish editing that video. He can't. It's the video that stopped him from going with Dan, from saving his life. No, that video will never see the light of day.

He has to tell them. He has to tell their fans that he's dead.

He opens a new tweet and then just stares at the empty text box. His thumbs are trembling above the screen of his smartphone. A single tear falls onto it. Phil wipes it away, leaving a smear across the screen.

He can't do it. He can't type the words. Can he say them? “Dan's dead”, he whispers. His voice cracks.

He opens the camera on his phone and records himself. He hasn't turned the light on so you can't really see anything that's being recorded but Phil doesn't care. At least no one is going to _see_ him being a total mess.

“Hey, guys.” He automatically sounds cheery. Inappropriate. His voice turns sinister. “Um, OK, listen, I – I have to tell you something.” His voice cracks once more. “It – It's Dan. He – He's dead.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “He's dead, OK? He's dead!” He's shouting the words. “He's had an accident and he's dead!” He breaks down at the last word. He leans against a wall and slides down to the floor. He's starting to cry again. “I don't know if I can go on.” Pause. “That – That's all.” He ends the video.

Should he really post that? He doesn't care. So what, if the whole world sees him having a break-down, what does it matter anymore?

He proceed to upload it to his YouTube channel. What's he going to call it? He types in the first thing that comes to his mind.  _“LAST VIDEO?”_ He posts it.

Phil goes to the lounge, he still doesn't turn on any of the lights. He feels better in the dark today.

Of course, his decision not to make any light repays him: Phil, being his usual clumsy self, walks into a table. He makes a pained noise only out of reflex because the pain he feels now in his knee doesn't even compare to the pain caused by Dan's absence.

A few things have fallen down from the table, just the usual junk that's lying around everywhere. An empty coffee mug, some random papers, two not-matching socks and … a black felt-tip.

Phil snuffles upon remembering all the cat whiskers they have drawn on each other's faces over the years. He has to sit down.

While sitting down, he notices an unfamiliar lump in his pocket. He reaches into it and pulls out Dan's phone. He has forgotten that the paramedic gave it to him.

He opens Dan's and his chat. Today's first message was from Dan. “do you prefer red or green icing on your spooky cake?”

The words seem to laugh at Phil, mock him. They wanted to bake tonight. They always had so much fun baking, especially before Halloween. He doesn't think that he will ever bake anything again.

There's his reply. “GET BOTH!”

And then, a few hours later another text from himself. “Why are you taking so long?”

And at the bottom of the screen in the text box, Phil reads an unsent message by Dan. “I got black as well. Time to get SPOOKY!” 

Why didn't he send that? And then Phil remembers what George told him at the hospital. Dan had walked into traffic because he was looking at his phone. He must have been texting Phil.

Dan died because he was texting Phil.

He died because of Phil.

It's his fault.

_It's his fault._

It is completely and undoubtedly his fault.

And after that realisation, Phil breaks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! This is my first work about Dan and Phil so please leave any kind of feedback and I will love you forever! *insert 2009 Dan making a heart with his hand*


End file.
